


Cufflinks

by CoconutRum



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Cock & Ball Torture, Dubious Consent, Hannibal is a Jungle Cat, M/M, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Play, Switching, Trap!, Will's false sense of security
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:49:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28847073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoconutRum/pseuds/CoconutRum
Summary: This is version 1 -There is a version 2  with what I call the DIRECTOR's Cut -UNCENSORED WITH AN EXTENDED SEX SCENE.  Because reasons.Title includes ''VERSION 2"A gift for the sultry, seductive and savvy Zillabean!!!*((see her INCREDIBLE art trade here: ))https://www.deviantart.com/zillabean/art/Cop-Hannibal-867931358Requested Will getting a gift for Hannibal...but one of those that's more for himself. He binds the good doctor and pushes his limits...and buttons, untilll....oh no!!Poor Will (naauwt!! rough and hard and fast, just the way he..er...we, like it!)Thank you Zillabean for being such a spectacularly magnificent partner in crime! I hope you like!Please check out Zillabean's DEVIANTART account here! https://www.deviantart.com/zillabeanOr they're Twitter: Rexxaliciouss - for all the naughty, tasty morsels!!!They are Hella talented!!!I enjoyed this so much...I may continue it :D
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	1. Heat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zillabean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zillabean/gifts).



“Is that what you want, Will?” asked Hannibal; a glint in his eye; he stared out from his cushy ‘chair of authority.’ (As Will called it,) watching the brunette pace.

Graham sighed, wringing his hands through his hair. He was giddy and trying to control his enthusiasm.

“Yes…” he quipped, exasperated; fibers of the rug now pitifully flattened where he had walked now for nearly 20 minutes. The doctor made a note to brush it out later.

“You trust me, I trust you….it shouldn’t be this...this…” Will stared down at his palms.

Seeing the distressed man spiral, Lecter rose from his seat, approached, and wrapped both arms around Graham’s torso, trapping his limbs, holding him to his chest.

The profiler immediately stilled. Part of his brain categorized this as relief and comfort; the larger part as “What the flying fuck? Hannibal being ‘affectionate?!?’” (Also trying to shoo away the pesky twitch of his cock at the scent of the doc’s aftershave.)

As always, Hannibal retorted before Will could voice the thoughts the doctor had already read in his body language alone.

“Shhh...” He held the man tighter, taking a deep breath, feeling his patient follow suit.

“Application of pressure to broad expanses of the body suppresses the autonomic nervous system, resulting in a release of oxytocin, resetting neurotransmitters to a state of equilibrium.”

Only Dr. Lecter would give clinical definition and justification of a hug.

Hannibal held him there for a good minute and a half as Will thumbed through the flipbook of his own mind….color illustrations of course. His brain brimmed with pleasure at being caged in by those long, sinewy arms; soaking up the warmth of that lanky muscled body; memories of those clever hands pressing him into the mattress as he was fucked by…

“Feeling better?” the doctor chided, noting Will’s calmer demeanor. 

The brunette felt dizzy and he fought to ignore his now half hard dick chaffing in his pants.

Lecter released the man, and resumed his authoritative perch in his arm-chair....as though hugging a patient (Who saw him as the epitome of SEX GOD!) was the most normal thing in the world.

But was he really his patient in this context? They had been fucking for a few weeks; learning each other’s bodies, language and cues. Neither cared that they had to contain themselves like horny teens if they were even just in the office together!

Graham took excessively deep, slow breaths; proving useless. (He was sure this didn’t work for women in labor either, but it gave him the illusion regardless.)

His therapist assessed him, quizzically; remaining neutral, calm; (*Goddamn perfectionist, even in behavior!) looking like the hottest teacher to ever step out of a Norwegian porno film. 

Beacons emphasizing the doctor’s lips flew through Will’s vision:  
“You’ve been falling behind in your studies Mr. Graham. Perhaps you’d like a private tutor.” His brain drew pictures of Lecter wearing delicate glasses, hair parted cleanly on the left, letting it fall into his eyes; holding a ruler, or wooden blackboard pointer; bending him over his school desk and…

“Hyngh!” Will screwed his eyes shut and tried to unsuccessfully banish his loudmouth of a libido despite being positively intoxicated with the mental payday bonus he had just been granted.

“Will.” 

He counted to 3.

“Will...look at me.” 

The low voice grounded him.

He chanced a glance, praying his boner wasn’t the most obvious piece of his distress. *(Who the fuck was he kidding?)

“Dr. Lecter, I….” He pressed a finger to his nose, adjusting his glasses. Ever the elegant nerd. “This discussion has left me a little...excited.”

“I’m flattered,” Hannibal drawled, setting his notes on the side table, taking a sip of water, and gesturing Graham do the same; all the while maintaining eye contact. 

Again, only Hannibal could simultaneously accept flattery and make it implicitly dirty.

Both now seated, he took a few moments to allow Will to settle again. Absolutely titillated at the small, wiry man getting as worked up as he was. The blood already running hot to his dick.

“This is part of a relationship, Will,” he let his legs splay outward, teasingly.

Will felt a hot blush on his cheeks.

“We have already established our relationship professionally, and...sexually.”

The doctor leaned back, allowing his cock more space as it swelled.

“Okay,” Will smiled. “But you’re sure you’re ok with this? You won’t be…” (annoyed, disappointed, asleep) “Bored?” Good one, he thought, very articulate.

Lecter raised an eyebrow, gesturing to his tented pants.

“Have I ever been one to not express my honest opinion? Verbally, or…physically?” He palmed (what Will knew to be his gorgeously large, magnificent) cock, adjusting and enjoying the strain as his star patient glowed.

Graham’s own dick gave a painful bob; he practically whined.

“My only request,” the doctor purred, loosening his tie, “Is that we still make it to Jack’s party tonight. Albeit, fashionably late of course.”

Will’s heart galloped at the smirk on the psychologist’s face. 

“I think that can be arranged, Dr. Lecter,” Will chirped, leg still bouncing.

Reaching under his chair, Graham produced a box and unceremoniously removed the contents, placing the items in his lap. He then re-crossed his legs, bobbing the one, and fisting the arms of his chair.

Hannibal exhaled the ghost of a growl, settling into the cushions; heavy lidded eyes glowing in the dim light.

Will took his cue, standing slowly. He toed off his shoes, and padded over to the older man. 

He evened his breath, letting his senses take over. The carpet prickled and gave way to miniature plush pillows beneath his feet; the hair stood on the back of his neck as he came closer to the man he knew to be as lethal as he was charismatic.

Hannibal remained stark still; his contained length and girth making Will’s mouth water.  
How he loved the weight of it in his mouth; the salt and sweat lingering, leaving his throat raw. 

Heart racing, he came to stand behind Lecter’s chair, placing the contents of the box to the side. He draped his own arms over the chair, coming to rest on the doctor’s warm, broad shoulders. Kneading the skin there, he pressed his own cock up against the back of the chair, rubbing slowly, groaning at the friction. He gripped the doctor’s flesh, letting his nails rake across leaving hot, red lines through his shirt. Hannibal hissed, craning his neck.

Lecter suppressed a groan, relishing the delicate pain. They had barely begun, and already, his cock was aching, nearly leaking in his pants. 

Graham loosened the tie at the man’s neck, sliding it through the collar. 

The sound made Hannibal shiver. Nimble fingers undid the buttons of his pristine white shirt, peeling it off.

Graham crouched, placing a hot kiss on either side of Hannibal’s neck; pleased when the older man sighed. 

To Lecter’s surprise, Will then came around the front of the chair, crawling over to straddle his long, lean legs. 

The brunette sank low in Hannibal’s lap, rocking his hips; letting the base of his cock enjoy the tease of being pressed between two bodies as he ran both hands through the older man’s silken locks. 

He reached down, procuring a supple, black leather cuff, with a shining metal ring hanging from a riveted centerpiece.

With one hand, he gripped the doctor’s forearm, gently at first, then hard enough to bruise as he raised it up to eye level.

Hannibal playfully tried to snatch it back (These were technically Will’s gift to *him*), fighting the smaller man; until he felt Graham’s nails digging into his thigh. 

He balked, sneering, and gave in. It wouldn’t be fun if he didn’t put up something of a fight. 

Will knew how easily Hannibal could well...kill him. Or, merely throw him across the room; haul him up, body slam and snog him senseless against the wall, or have him pinned down, helpless and panting on the floor, cock raging.  
Wait, his cock was already raging…

“Get your shit together, Graham,” he quipped, prodding his brain to steer...not out of the gutter, but stay out of the fast lane ...for now. “Focus.”

Holding the doctor’s lamplit gaze, the profiler fastened a delicate silver buckle, checking the space between hide and flesh. Satisfied, he repeated the action on the opposite arm; then clipping the two together with a sturdy, chrome fastener. 

Lecter gently tested his bindings, flexing his muscles and enjoying the bite of leather and steel on his skin. A smile played on his lips.

The delicate balance was difficult to maintain, given his physical strength; and knowing how his restraint drove his patient to the edge.

Will leaned in, letting his cock take the pressure of his weight. He carded his hands through Lecter’s hair before cradling the man’s head in his hands, pulling him into a searing kiss.

The older man felt the brunette’s tongue lap at his lips like honey. Tasted the tang of blood, and moaned as Will bit into his lip.

The two parted, breathing heavily. 

Hannibal’s dick twinged, hot and throbbing against the young man’s belly and he fought to contain himself. Nostrils flared, planes of his chest expanding like a race-horse, he locked eyes with Graham.

The officer coiled his hand through the hair at the base of Hannibal’s neck, pulling and making the man’s eyes sting with tears as he drew his neck back in an elegant arch.

Hannibal held his breath; his gaze full of deadly promise.

“Well then, Dr. Lecter,” Will rolled the heel of his hand against the base of the older man’s shaft. 

“Shall we begin?”


	2. Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A gift for the sultry, seductive and savvy Zillabean!!!
> 
> Requested Will getting a gift for Hannibal...but one of those that's more for himself. He binds the good doctor and pushes his limits...and buttons, untilll....oh no!!  
> Poor Will (naauwt!! rough and hard and fast, just the way he..er...we, like it!)
> 
> Thank you Zillabean for being such a spectacularly magnificent partner in crime! I hope you like!  
> Please check out Zillabean's DEVIANTART account here! https://www.deviantart.com/zillabean
> 
> Or they're Twitter: Rexxaliciouss - for all the naughty, tasty morsels!!!  
> They are Hella talented!!!
> 
> I enjoyed this so much...I may continue it :D

Will extracted himself from the doctor’s lap, *(Hannibal’s massive cock weeping in protest at losing the contact) going to stand in front of Hannibal’s desk.

“Hannibal,” his voice sounded a little foreign to him; trying to sound all ‘Domly-Dom’ was harder than he thought. “Come,” he didn’t raise a hand or gesture, just tried to let (what he hoped) his voice indicated, do the job.

Lecter gave Will a slow blink, tilting his head to one side, as though debating whether or not he would actually obey.

The lion of a man; even in the submissive role, took on an air of dominance. (Arrogant prat! Graham’s mind goaded, seeing the older man leave his seat.)

The doctor slithered out of his chair, to his knees; looking like something at a fucking slave auction...of kings and sultans and only those who could afford nice things…  
Will gulped as they locked eyes. 

Why the hell did he feel so completely at the bottom of the food chain right now? Oh, because Hannibal, in his ‘submissive’ state, still retained the posture and radiated energy of a deadly jungle cat...or ex con? Who could pounce and unequivocally destroy him! His mind hummed with the memory of his ass being torn apart from underneath this man, in this same ‘submissive’ pose! Shit!

His cock attempted a back flip through his stomach.

He cleared his throat, puffing his chest, and held his breath as the wildcat sauntered over to him; hips deliciously swaying.

Hannibal felt the weight of his cock moving with his body. His balls heavy and shaft pulsing pleasantly. Still confined to his trousers, he fought the urge to rut against the floor as he came to sit at the young man’s feet. Crawling in the cuffs had proven a little difficult, but he made it work.

Will looked down at the taller man, running fingers through sandy hair cupping his cheek, as he leaned against the firm planks of wood behind him. He half expected the man to start purring.

“Good boy,” he whispered.

Hannibal furrowed his brow and came up on his knees, mouth just above Graham’s straining dick. He pressed himself flush against the young man’s body, hooking his right hand around the profiler’s hip bone; his other hand cupping Will’s sac through his pants.

Graham let his eyes roll back, this would be lovely. He let his breathing slow as he waited for the older man to move.

Lecter applied pressure with both hands, squeezing Will’s balls, and pressing his thumb into the crook of his pelvis inside the waistband of his pants.

The brunette moaned at the contact, beginning to let his mind wander.  
“MMmmmm yeah, such a good b…”

His eyes bugged out of his head as he felt Hannibal nearly pierce the skin of his hip with a wickedly sharp nail; (talon, more like) the digit maintaining a staggeringly painful amount of force.

((He would later describe it as an ice pick through one side of ‘the V’, piercing straight to to the bone” ))

Standing awkwardly, he tried to remember to breathe.

“Now that I have your attention...Sir…” Hannibal kept his cheek pressed to the man’s shirt, “I would kindly appreciate it if you refrained from using the term ‘good boy,’ under these circumstances, understood?”

His voice was so quaint; as though he were giving lessons on how to handle ducklings for Chrissake!!! Just so bloody matter of fact. Here, hold this adorable baby duck...whilst simultaneously threatening Will’s livelihood. 

Ya know….politely...of course. Always the gentleman.

Will twitched and gave some sort of agreeable noise...praying he managed something resonating as more than what sounded like hiding a squeaky fart.

Hannibal released the poor man from his clutches, brushed a few stray pieces of lint from his pants (as all high born Scandanavian men do, when impersonating sex slaves), and resumed his stance, kneeling at Will’s feet.  
“Lovely.”

The profiler let his arms hold most of his weight as he leaned against the desk; trying to sort out his thoughts.

“Yes,” he cleared his throat, searching for his ‘I am Will, god of sex, domly-dom’ voice again. “Doctor Lecter, I do believe I had other plans. Stand up.”

Hannibal stood, not much taller than Will, hooded eyes glittering with mischief.  
Graham reached back, and over the desk, removing a silver chain from a drawer.

“Hands.”

Lecter raised his wrists; cuffs clinking pleasantly.

Will clipped the center of the chain between the cuffs. From there, he pulled the shining strand through his fingers until he reached one end where it split into 2. At the end of each was a tiny clamp.

Hannibal bristled. He had used those on Will the week before. His blood ran hot at the memory of the smaller man beneath him as he had plucked the silver teeth from abused nipples. A smile met his eyes as Graham gave him a wink before setting the first one; cold and stinging to Lecter’s chest.

The doctor’s chest threatened to turn concave as the brunette put the second one in place. His body was hypersensitive given his restraint, and the scent Will was emitting. He was quivering at how desperately he wanted to rip them from his body and use them to truss Will up and take him hard and dry. 

But he waited. He would be patient. 

Graham gave the chain a tug, earning a jolt from the majestic cat.

Lastly, he took the rest of the chain dangling from Lecter’s wrists; swinging it playfully in a small circle; smirking.

“Hold still,” he whispered; one hand reaching to undo the doctor’s fly. He reached his hand down Lecter’s pants, groping the sweating, slick girth in one hand as he pulled the pants down with the other.

Hannibal actually bit his lip at the sheer, exquisite agony and simultaneous pleasure of his cock springing free; even for a moment. 

Will was salivating. He never could concentrate when Hannibal’s dick was in his grasp. He took the last length of chain, looping its (limited) tightening end around the base of the man’s cock; taking a moment to enjoy the twitches it elicited. 

Satisfied with the chain placement, he carefully shucked off the rest of Hannibal’s clothing.

It was a picture of blissful agony. 

Hannibal’s cock strained magnificently against the chain; transitioning from a glowing pink to dusky, slippery purple. 

“Now…” Will gave the bulge a quick swat...earning a death glare from the doctor, “I do believe that’s a bit more comfortable.”

Lecter seethed; deciding how he would punish Will later; all pleasant reasons to be patient. 

Graham laced a finger around the upper chain; reveling in the doctor’s sudden shivering. Leading him like a prized thoroughbred, he took him over to the ladder, shoving him backward into the boards.

Lecter gave a satisfying ‘unf’ noise, attempting to curl in on himself before his entire body arched against the wood with the impact.

Muscles rippled and clenched. Graham briefly unhooked each wrist cuff, threading then bending the crook of the doctor’s elbows to the rungs and forearms under again before refastening the clasp at his wrists. If the man moved forward, his elbows would catch. If he arched...well…

Lecter was panting. He had dreamed of this, but with the roles reversed. His blood sang as Graham planted fiery kisses across his torso; and he fidgeted as his cock continued to swell and whine against its shackles.

Will nibbled, licked, nipped, and laved at the doctor’s torso; pulling moans and breathy sounds of frustration from his throat.

“I am Will Graham, dungeon master…” Will thought as he pinched a nipple between his fingers.

Lecter clenched his arms, flesh biting into the wood as he bit back a slew of profanity. It wasn’t often he swore...not to mention lost composure.

His dick was burning, now freely leaking and painting glistening stripes across his belly. 

Will rubbed his thumbs along the underside of the clamps; Hannibal’s skin now slick with sweat; cheeks tinged a rosy pink. 

Graham took a nub between his teeth.

Lecter snarled, arching his neck and back, feeling the chain drag the root of his dick upward. He grew impossibly harder.

“Will, please…”

The cheerleading squad of Will’s brain spelled his name, then ran a victory lap.

The brunette sank to his knees, giving the blond god’s ass a good squeeze.

Hannibal tried canting his hips, fisting his hands, biting his lip...anything to distract him from the burning, searing ache at the purpling head of his cock; from the chain fiercely tightening around his base.

His magnificently arranged fortress of control and composure began to tear at the seams.

Graham was dizzy with power. He slurped Hannibal’s massive length into his mouth.

The chains across Lecter’s body rattled and shrilled silvery chiming sounds as the cannibal swallowed a howl as Graham took him to the hilt. 

The ladder was creaking in rhythm with their movements.

Will held the head in his mouth, rubbing his hands in a twisting motion along the shaft; drunk at the realization that this titan was his.

“Will, I swear…” his voice was trembling with rage. At being undone; at his facade being defaced and stomped on by this glorious mind and body at his feet.

He pulled at his bindings; hide cutting into the delicate skin of his wrists. He yearned to to claim Will, own him...put him in his place. Remind him who he belonged to.

“Please, let me touch you,” he strained. 

Graham’s ears perked up like a bloodhound on a scent. The benevolent god asking for mercy? What new devilry was this?

He drank in the image before him; positively elated with having his shrink practically gift wrapped, cock standing at attention. 

His libido tried to overpower his psyche and grab the megaphone.

Almost hesitantly, he stood; pulling Hannibal into another searing kiss, laughing against his mouth as the man squirmed and sighed in his grasp.

“Say please…”

Lecter glared daggers at him, and through grit teeth, groaned, “Please.”

Will gave a satisfied, jut of his chin, “Good boy,” he whispered.

As soon as he had re-clipped the cuffs in front of Lecter, he knew he fucked up - 

Hannibal’s eyes went black.

Will’s psyche played the ‘Jaws’ theme through the megaphone and he had just enough time for his brain to register ‘Time for the Oh Shit Face’ before Lecter grabbed him by the shirt, and slammed him to the floor.

“This is a red alert!” His psyche screamed over the megaphone...and proceeded to get into a WWF smackdown wrestling competition with his libido.

The demi-god crawled on top of him, pressing the cuff clasp against his windpipe, leering down at him. 

“Now that I have your...undivided attention,” Hannibal purred, (as though he were not stark naked, sporting Prada’s latest BDSM accessories) 

Like Will could fathom doing otherwise as Lecter’s dick rubbed against his own.

“We have a party to attend, and I can’t be expected to attend under such…” he ground his pelvis downward “Distracting circumstances.”

Graham’s lungs burned, his breaths coming in short spurts.  
Hannibal locked eyes with the profiler, pinned down like a dissection specimen, He held him there; thrusting and rocking; nearly sobbing at the sweet friction.

Will felt the doctor’s arms shaking as he pulled against his bindings.  
He braced himself; this could be it. A crushed windpipe, fragile neck tendons, snapped.

Lecter held steady pressure outwards on each wrist for nearly a minute.

The brunette jolted as he heard and felt a *shinnnng* followed by a loud *pop!*  
His hands reflexively tried (unsuccessfully) to grab at his throat in shock.

Hannibal let out a low, dangerous chuckle, (The kind you hear in the movies when the villain knows they’ve won) and sat up, straddling Will’s torso. He slowly raised his arms in a wide ‘surrender’ pose. A fucking halo practically appeared above his head...above the goddamn horns he filed daily!

“I’m sorry, Will…” he rubbed each wrist, seeing the snapped link had shot across the floor, “But we really musn’t be late.”

Without warning, he tore off the clamps and shucked the chain from his body, (Will nearly died then and there at the level of erotica his brain experienced at the sight.) and promptly spun Will over onto his belly, tearing his shirt from his back and sinking his teeth into his shoulder.

Graham squealed, writhing beneath the doctor’s weight.

He felt his pants being roughly yanked off his ass; his body shoved into the carpet, hips pulled into the air.

Quite unceremoniously, Hannibal took Graham to the hilt; dry and dirty.

The profiler sobbed. His chest burned pleasantly with carpet burn, and his cock went awry with electricity along the floor.

“MMhh… Doctor Lecter, I …” Will stammered between thrusts.

“Shhh…,” He picked up the pace, hand snagging the discarded chain, each end in hand, looping the middle across the front of Graham’s throat.

He rode the young man hard and fast, hissing and keening. 

Graham felt light headed, and fought the panic rising in his stomach; his dick a fucking pillar of marble.

Just as he felt his lungs would give out, Hannibal shot himself deep inside Will’s hot channel.

“Nnngg….yesssss….” the doctor panted, releasing the grip on the chain.  
The blood returned to Will’s body, overstimulating the head of his cock. The carpet tickled and stung and within just a few reflexive thrusts, he came; his belly slicked.

They lay there. Hannibal’s warm weight on Will.  
After cleaning up, the doctor waited patiently at the door for the profiler to join him. He fastened his cufflinks, meticulously; hiding any sign of their prior activities.

“Will, we have to get going; are you alright?” His mind was subconsciously pleased with the chaff of his shirt against his singed nipples.

Graham stumbled into the foyer, hair askew, as always.  
“Yeah, yeah, here…” he coughed, admiring the psychologist in his trim suit and expensive shoes. (As though the didn’t just play cops and robbers on the floor)

“Did you do as I asked?” Lecter inquired.

“Of course…” Will stumbled, showing him the outline of the leather cuffs beneath his pressed dress shirt.

Hannibal smirked.

“Good boy.”


End file.
